


Rebuilding

by starlightwalking



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Back to Middle-Earth Month, Doom of the Noldor, Flight of the Noldor, Gen, POV First Person Plural, Prophecy of Mandos, Returning Home, Tirion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:06:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23227561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlightwalking/pseuds/starlightwalking
Summary: Finarfin leads his people home.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 14
Collections: Back to Middle-earth Month 2020: Endings and Beginnings





	Rebuilding

**Author's Note:**

> I'm making good progress on catching up with B2MeM - if I can keep up this pace (and keep writing short things!), I'll be able to catch up by Fëanorian Week :o
> 
> This is for 3/13/20. My prompts were "The joy of our homecoming was too soon over" [First Line] and followers of Finarfin [Character Groups], along with the official prompt quote:  
> “…your kingdom is gone. If it is to be restored, which I doubt, it must be from small beginnings.” (Unfinished Tales, Part Three, III, The Quest of Erebor)

The joy of our homecoming is too soon over. Relief and reunion is brief in the face of what we have left, what we have done. There are no Kinslayers among us—none sullied with the blood of the Falmari had the wisdom to turn back, and had they felt remorse we may not have accepted them within our ranks.

The Falmari do not greet us as we pass. Even our prince, wed to their princess and friend to their dead, is unacknowledged. We carry our brothers' guilt on our shoulders, and their shame has become ours, for they would not carry it.

The Vanyar gawk at us as we return, watching our procession like we are a parade of animals on their way to a menagerie. We feel their stares on our backs, feel their judgement burning through us, but it is not they to whom we must bow.

The Maiar keep their distance as we approach, their glimmers and shadows flickering in and out of our vision. They need not speak for us to know they gossip; we know their ways, for we grew among them.

It is the Valar to whom we kneel and plead forgiveness, plead mercy. We heard the Doom proclaimed and returned, humbled and wisened; we beg for his prophecy to pass us over, that we may try again.

Our prince prostrates himself before the Elder King, but our eyes watch the Doomsman. It is his word that traps us in our fate, and his word only that may free us.

And wonder of wonders, we are pardoned, and commanded to return to Tirion, to make amends with those we left behind, to rebuild our city and our people and our hearts.

We thank them, and praise Varda for her stars that yet light the sky in this time of darkness, and we return with our prince—nay, our king—to our city, to face the anger and despair and betrayal of those whom we abandoned, and though we are glad to be home our joy is tempered with the loss of those who did not join us and the guilt of having left at all.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading and commenting!  
> You can find me on tumblr [@arofili](http://arofili.tumblr.com/).


End file.
